


The Real Him

by DarkPhoenix1578



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, No Slash, Slight Canon Divergence, Slightly OOC Snape, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3243821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPhoenix1578/pseuds/DarkPhoenix1578
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter is walking through the Forbidden Forest to face his fate, but he meets someone unexpected who helps him realize that all is not yet lost for him and his fellow Hogwarts heroes. NO SLASH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real Him

Harry had learned much in the past few hours, including that is was his fate to die.

 _You want me to raise him like a pig to be slaughtered?_ Harry winced. The memory was still fresh in his mind; he couldn't begin to understand why, all these years, Snape had been so intent on making him miserable, when, on the other end of the spectrum, he'd...sort of cared for him.

And now Harry found himself stumbling past the trees, tripping over the gigantic roots that rose up from the earth. He found himself walking in a hypnotised-like state towards his death. Harry had felt raw fear before, but nothing he had experienced before compared to what he was feeling now. He could hardly think properly as he walked through the Forbidden Forest. Questions buzzed inside his head. Would it hurt, to be killed? Would it be quick and virtually painless? Harry cringed, pausing for a moment in a small clearing in the forest.

The image of Snape... _Snape..._ lying and bleeding to death - had been particularly hard on him. And then, after looking into the Pensive and watching as everything unfolded. Snape had never hated him - well, maybe to a degree, because to a biased observer, he looked almost perfectly like his father.

Harry could not help but feel a wedge of anger at his father. _Snivellus._ Harry loathed the word. Even Snape, who he had hated for practically all his time at Hogwarts, did not deserve the nickname. And now, funny enough, Harry was beginning to understand why Snape had despised him so, and right at the moment of his death.

He pulled out the Snitch that was buried in his pocket and stared at it sadly. He still remembered his first Quidditch victory, the pride he had felt in himself, at the roar of the crowd in the stands. He had felt something fiery inside of him, something he had never felt before, courtesy of the Dursleys.

He gave a poor attempt at a smile. "I'm ready to die." His voice shook, though, and Harry fought down tears as he gently pressed the Snitch to his mouth. A sharp click startled him and he held the Snitch away from him as a small compartment that he had never noticed before open up. To his immense shock, a stone, about the size of half of his palm, floated out. Quickly, he took it and gazed at it with amazement. The Ressurection Stone.

For a moment, Harry was tempted; tempted to bring back his mother and father, or his lost friends... _Remus,_ Harry couldn't help but think of. He swallowed thickly. _Fred._

But he knew he couldn't. He could not cheat death. If it was his destiny to die at the hands of Lord Voldemort, then so be it. Harry clenched his hand around the stone and closed his eyes. It wouldn't hurt though, to see _someone_ one last time. Anyone. The forest was desolate, the ideal place to die. No friends to comfort him, gaze at him with sympathy...not that he needed it. He would face his death with courage. It was the only thing Harry felt he could do at all at a time like this.

"Harry."

His eyes snapped open and widened. "Pro-professor Snape?" he blurted out incredulously. The man standing before him wasn't much different than the one he had knelt by and watched die. Painfully. He had the same greasy, night black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin.

Harry quickly managed to register his surprise at Snape being there, but was amazed further. "You called me by my first name?" he exclaimed. He mentally slapped himself. _Here is your last chance to talk to someone,_ he scolded himself, _and you're busy worrying he said your first name!_

Snape gave him a half smile. His eyes were no longer distant and cold, Harry noticed; they were filled with a desperate sort of warmth and saddness. Harry swallowed. There were so many unanswered questions.

"I saw your...memories." It was a start. "I...I don't know what to say." It was the truth. Harry's tongue seemed to be stuck at the roof of his mouth.

"Now you know the truth." It was all Snape said. Harry wasn't surprised. If, at all, a conversation had been struck up between the two, it had always been hostile and brief. Now, here they were, having their first proper conversation, and one of them were presently dead. Soon it would be two.

It was Harry's turn to half smile, a bit bitterly. "I suppose it would not have mattered, since I am going to die anyways."

"It has made all the difference, Harry-" _Harry._ He was still getting used to that. "-You no longer hate me - do you?" Harry blinked. The last part of Snape's sentence had come out a little desperately.

Harry knew he could not lie to the man. They had both suffered enormously due to the choices they had made, but presently, as of today, as of now - "No, I don't hate you. I don't think I am capable of hating anyone anymore." he added at the end, blinking rapidly at the end. He could feel tears coming on again.

"Even the Dark Lord?"

Harry stoned his face. "I feel sorry for him that he doesn't have a single, damn thing worth fighting for."

Snape smiled, a real, proper smile. Harry had to admit, a smiling Snape was a bit...strange. "You are quite right, Harry. For once." He smirked, but Harry knew it was in good fun.

A comfortable silence fell over them for a moment, and then Harry couldn't take it anymore. "I'm sorry about what my father did to you." he whipped out. "If I could change it, then I would. I would go back in time and change things for you. You never deserved such a thing, Professor."

Snape stared for a moment and Harry bit his lip, wondering if he'd gone too far.

"Harry," Snape began slowly, "What is done is done. There is no need to change anything." He smiled faintly at Harry's expression of disbelief. "I would rather you not change anything."

Harry opened his mouth to argue his point, but closed it immediately, muttering, "Yes, sir."

More silence. Harry's eyes drifted down the path and was attacked again by fear. He swallowed again, trying to breathe through his nose to calm his nerves. "Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Does it hurt...dying?" He winced after the question came out. Snape's death hadn't been particularly...pleasant. So Harry was unsure of whether his death would be the same as Snape's, or different.

Snape scowled a little. "If you are destined to have your throat torn out by Nagini, then yes. Yes, it hurts a lot." Harry's expression was a horrified one. "However, I think the Dark Lord wants your death over with; might I say that in my...excursions as a Death Eater, you were often the topic of many discusssions. The Dark Lord has, on several occassions, told me that you are a...valiant opponent, to put it lightly."

Harry relaxed. "So Voldemort is still afraid, then? I'm going to die and he's still afraid?"

"You must know that, the night the Dark Lord killed your parents-" There was a short, difficult pause. "-He gave you that scar. He, unintentionally, sealed a part of his soul in you, Harry."

And then it dawned upon Harry. An almost triumphant feeling surged within him. "You're saying, Professor, that I have a part of his soul inside me. And that when he kills me, he will be killing a part of himself as well?" Snape nodded.

"I'm a Horacrux?"

"Mmm. I'm afraid so."

Harry thought for a moment. "But then...part of me would still be alive, wouldn't it? I am not completely controlled by Voldemort. I still have a chance at beating him, then."

Snape smiled again. "Fortunately for your sake, Harry, the Dark Lord has overthought his whole... _scheme._ He never did realize that when he chose you to kill, he was himself creating his worst enemy and therefore beginning this whole prophecy."

A silence drifted over them again. Snape's form seemed to shimmer for a moment and Harry realized with a jolt that he had been standing here for quite some time. He had forgotten everyone else. "I'm sorry, Professor." Harry burst out, "I need to get going and die and come back to life or everyone else will die along with me and probably not come back to life."

Snape chuckled softly. Harry had never heard Snape laugh before, and found that it wasn't so unpleasant. Harry stood there, a tad bit awkwardly, then nodded a quick goodbye. "I'll seen you soon, Professor." Snape nodded after him.

Harry spun on his heel and walked quickly towards the darkest parts of the Forbidden Forest, where he could surely hear the ecstatic cries of Voldemort's followers. And then, a thought occured to him. He twisted his head around and found Snape was still there, with a small smile dancing across his face. "You won't be forgotten." Harry called out to him. "I'm going to name a child of mine after you. Maybe...Albus Severus Potter? That sounds good, doesn't it?"

Snape scowled, but it was with good humor. "I sincerely hope not."

"Too bad." Harry grinned. And then he let the Ressurection Stone drop from his hands. With a thud, it fell to the ground and Snape's form faded away. Harry began walking up the steep hill, towards what would be waiting for him. And surely, enough, after a great deal of walking, he was faced with Voldemort himself.

"The Boy Who Lived," he sneered with triumph, "come to die." Shouts and screams raged from the Death Eaters aligned in back of him. Hagrid was shouting, "Harry, NO!" But Hagrid didn't know yet. He didn't know that Harry was a Horacrux, or that he would spontanueously come back to life.

Harry closed his eyes, ready to die, and as he heard the infamous killing spell bellowed, he swore that he could feel all those who had died for him - his mom and dad, Mad Eye, George, Remus, Sirius - all of them were behind him. Harry couldn't help but smile a little.

_You'll never know love...or friendship. And I feel sorry for you!_


End file.
